


Rosy Palms

by GiggleSnortBangDead



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiggleSnortBangDead/pseuds/GiggleSnortBangDead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles talks about masturbation pretty flippantly until he doesn't. And, when he doesn't, he allows a ridiculously fake girlfriend to be made up. It all works out pretty well, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rosy Palms

Stiles didn’t _mean_ to bring it up as much as he did. It was just, like... a really big part of his life, okay? And one of the better parts of it, if he was being honest. And he was really good at only talking about it with friends (and, maybe, once or twice with Couch Finstock, but that didn’t count). Besides that, he didn’t talk about it with, like, strangers or his friends’ girlfriends or his dad. That would have been mortifying. 

Almost as mortifying as the really hot guy that Stiles totally wasn’t crushing on or anything overhearing him talk about it in a grocery store with his best friend. 

“Dude.” Scott had said, rushing over to him. By complete chance, Stiles had bumped into Scott while shopping - and “by complete chance” meant by no chance at all, being that Stiles knew exactly when the McCalls did their grocery shopping and tended to plan according. “Where were you last night? We had a pack meeting.”

“Well, you know,” Stiles began, gesturing vaguely, shrugging with one arm hooked under the handle of his hand basket. “I figured since the whole Alpha Pack thing is all settled, everything’s a lot more calm and I didn’t need to go and I haven’t had a lot of Me-Time lately, so...”

“So?”

“Masturbating. Scott. I was masturbating.” Stiles nodded. “Basically all night. Dad was working late so I had a lot of time to myself. I was thinking about going to the pack meeting and then... You know... I starting watching some porn and I felt like, nah. And, excluding some snack breaks, my time was pretty much exclusively dedicated to spending the night with Jil. It was actually pretty awe-”

“Hey, Derek.” Scott said, abruptly, lifting one hand in a nervous wave, his eyes stuck on the person standing directly behind Stiles. Stiles turned very slowly, and there he was. And, goodness, if he didn’t look pissed.

Stiles plastered a huge smile on his face and said an uncomfortable, but certainly cheery, ‘Hi, Derek.”

“Oh my gosh, I hear my mom calling.” Scott said before turning on his heel and leaving the two of them. Stiles looked after him, feeling a little betrayed.

“You missed the pack meeting.” Derek stated.

“Ah...” Stiles said, trying to think of something clever to respond with. He couldn’t. “Yes. Yes, I missed the pack meeting.”

“Because you were with some girl. This... Jill?” Derek glowered even more, spitting out the name like it tasted bad. Stiles wanted to laugh and explain _No, see, when you put up your right hand - palm down - your fingers make the shape of a girl’s name. See, J-I-L. Isn’t that fun?_ and then realized what explaining this to Derek would mean. Derek would know that Stiles had skipped his Super Important Pack Meeting to whack it, and that was weird. Because Derek was older and not a buddy kind of guy and had happened to star in a few (or a lot; but, whatever, no one was counting) of Stiles’s masturbatory fantasies. 

So he just said: “Er, yeah, kind of.”

“Are you going to see her again?”

“You kidding me? I got a date with Rosy Palms tonight.” 

Derek raised his eyebrows, not seeming impressed. He honestly seemed more surprised than anything else. “Two different girls.”

Stiles shook his head, containing his strong desire to laugh. “Nah, dude, Rosy is Jill. Jill’s a nickname. She’s from... Jillian, Kentucy. Yeah. Kentucky. So we call her Jill.”

“This is very hard to believe, Stiles.” Derek growled out, seeming personally offended by this conversation. 

“Just ask Scott - hey, Scott,” Stiles called just as Scott was walking by with ihs mom. The two of them stopped. “Was I on a date with Rosy Palms last night?”

Scott looked immensely uncomfortable and laughed nervously, looking between his mom, Stiles, and Derek, as if wondering who might break first and tell him this was all a joke. Melissa McCall just sighed deeply, pushing her cart away. Stiles followed closely behind her, blushing.

Derek glared at Stiles very evenly, who grinned and shrugged.

Sighing, Derek asked, “Are you sure you can trust her?”

“Whoa,” Stiles blinked. “Uh, yeah.”

“Because I can’t allow anything that might compromise the safety of the pack.” His eyes flashed in the direction of Scott and any mention of Allison was left unsaid but heavily implied.

“Totally get that.” 

“Do you like her?” Derek asked, which was the last thing Stiles had expected Derek to want to know. He looked down examining his own hands, thoughtfully.

“It’s better than nothing.”

“Hm...” Derek regarded him for a minute before turning to finish whatever shopping it was he needed to do. Stiles heaved a sigh of relief and continued with his day.

~~~~~

Come that night, Sheriff Stilinski was out - again - leaving Stiles to his own devices. He spent some time on the computer before shutting that down and retiring to his bed, his tissue box, and his half-full bottle of lube.

However, just as he was unzipping his jeans, there was a rustling at his window, which was shoved open. And who should crawl through it but Derek Fucking Hale.

“Wow. Am I imagining this?” Stiles asked as the werewolf took a step forward. He stopped abruptly, almost looking uncomfortable. Stiles rephrased: “What are you doing here, Derek?” 

“Your girlfriend didn’t show.”

“You’ve been watching?” Stiles gaped, then shut his mouth and rolled his eyes. “Of course you’ve been watching. Worried about the whole “threat to the pack” thing.”

“Did she cancel?”

Stiles sighed. “Look, Derek, Rosy Palms is not a girl. It’s a euphemism.” 

Derek stared at him, then looked at the boy’s unzipped jeans, tissue box, and ready for action bottle of lube. Stiles could seem him putting the pieces together.

“Oh.”

“Yeah...”

“So, that means, Friday night, instead of coming to the pack meeting, you were-”

“Jackin’ it. Yeah.”

Derek didn’t look a furious as Stiles thought he might. “And so Jill is...?”

“A euphemism. See, when you put up your right hand - ugh, never mind. Some other time.”

“And, what, you were too embarrassed so you had to make up a fake girlfriend so I wouldn’t know?”

“Psh, please. Me? Embarrassed? Of course not. _You_ were the one who made up the girlfriend. I just let you believe that.” And, yeah, Stiles was gonna stick to that. What Derek didn't know, in this case, wouldn't kill him.

Derek huffed. “I should have known. I didn't smell anyone new on you. I was just so mad-” He cut himself off.

“Mad?” Stiles furrowed his brow in confusion. “I get that skipping the meeting was annoying but I don’t see why you’d be mad at _me_ for playing hooky once. Because, I’m generally super helpful. Kind of.”

“Not about that.” Derek ground out.

“Oh.” Stiles had the slightest inkling of what Derek might be referring to, only due to the way the man was staring at him as if starved and the relation and tension between their bodies. But it was probably just hope and Stiles had learned enough about hope from Lydia. He tried to sound calm, unaffected. “Then what’s this about?” 

Derek didn’t say anything but looked like he was trying to.

“Don’t strain anything, big guy.” Stiles said, with forced humor. 

“It’s just...” he began. “I was a little... shocked to hear you had a girlfriend.”

“Shocked, huh?” Stiles repeated, sensing a half-truth. 

“And,” Derek cleared his throat here, looking more uncomfortable that Stiles had ever seen him before, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “You know, I’m no one to talk, but if you’re just with someone because it’s better than nothing than maybe you shouldn’t.” He then added, for clarity. “Be with them.”

“Well, uh... Can’t really cut my hand off, so I guess I’m cool with settling for now.”

“Right.” Derek nodded, as if reminding himself that Rosy Palms was actually Stiles's onanism and not his girlfriend. They stood there for a moment.

Stiles cleared his throat. “So, uh, _good talk_ , but, as you can see, I’m very busy tonight.” He gestured to his lube and tissues. “So, unless you’re hankering to watch-” He promptly stopped himself from saying anything else because that was a complete slip of the tongue. It wasn’t even funny. It was just awful. And Derek was staring at him very intently, which was unnerving.

“Wow, okay, let’s just forget that ever came out of my mouth and-”

“Yes.”

“What?” Stiles said looking straight at him, frozen, unsure of what Derek was affirming

“I’d like to. Watch.” Derek said this with minimal embarrassment, which was mind-boggling to Stiles.

“Uh...”

“If that’s okay with you.” And, goddamn him, Derek flashed a full, blindingly-white smile at him. “I don’t have any plans.”

Stiles could feel himself gaping. “So, you thought...” he started, “You thought you’d watch me spank it tonight?”

Derek shrugged and pulled out Stiles’s computer chair, sitting down. “You offered.”

“Yeah, as a joke. Not even a joke - an excited utterance.”

“Excited, huh?” Derek repeated, seeming way too confident in this situation. Stiles couldn’t even comprehend how the werewolf functioned within normal society. “Besides, you missed last night. I should probably see what’s so much more important than pack meetings.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the man before tugging off his pants and sitting down on his bed. “Fine, you wanna do this? We’ll do this. And it’s gonna be the best fucking masturbation your creepy werewolf senses ever witnessed.”

Of course, there came the tricky part of getting naked in front of Derek, who was built and maintained well, with all those really nice muscles, and, hell, he was probably even hung well. Instead of thinking about how he might compare, Stiles tried to imagine how well hung Derek might actually be while cupping himself over his boxers. 

One hand came behind him at an angle to support him as he reclined back a touch. He opened his legs to Derek and bit his lip while continuing to work himself up. Upon looking at Derek, he could see that the man was gazing intently at the rhythmic movement on his hand. It wasn’t until he moaned, a soft little _oh_ , that Derek’s eyes moved to the boy’s face, his lips, and stayed there for a moment.

Having Derek’s full attention on him was hot and totally flattering, but part of Stiles was so nervous that getting himself more than half hard was talking more time than he liked. He furrowed his brow and, after slicking up his palm with lube, dipped his hand into his boxers to pet himself from there.

“You’re shy.” Derek’s voice cut into the quiet of the room. The statement sounded sympathetic, almost like Derek thought it was endearing.

Stiles was having none of it, though. He retorted with a witty. “No, _you’re_ shy.” before valiantly sliding his boxers slowly down his hips, his erect cock bobbing into view. Stiles tried to stifle his triumphant smile.

“Do you want some help with that?” Derek asked. Stiles, once again, found himself completely and utterly shocked by the man sitting across from him.

“Do you want to help?” Stiles asked back, thrusting into his own palm and biting back a moan at the prospect of Derek giving him a hand.

“Wouldn’t offer to do anything I don’t want.” Derek said, standing and walking the few feet to Stiles’s bed. He hooked his fingers under the boy’s chin, tilting his head back. In a low husk, he ordered, “Give Rosy a rest.” before sitting down at his side.

The next thing Stiles knew, he was held in a spot just for him the in the spread of Derek’s thighs. In his _lap_. He was in _Derek Hale’s lap_ , a noble place few had trod - or so Stiles assumed. Maybe he should ask later. Derek’s warm, wet with lube hand was wrapped tightly around his cock, pumping him as the man breathed hot into his ear.

“Growing up in a house of werewolves,” he said, “Everyone basically could hear or smell whatever it was you were doing. And there was always some scent _lingering_.” He twisted his hand in the slightest way and Stiles groaned, pitching his hips upwards, trying to make Derek speed up his lazy, languid pace. 

“And then you come along. And, _Stiles_ ,” Derek said his name like it was a secret which was unbearably hot and had Stiles bucking his hips up, like it was all he lived for. “I have come across many teenagers but _you always smell like come_. Like you’ve been bathing in it. And you always smell like you want to be fucked. _Need_ to be fucked.” Stiles whined and threw his head back on Derek’s shoulder, his entire body melting into the sturdy one behind him.

“You gonna fuck me?” he breathed out.

“Not tonight.” Derek chuckled.

“But, I need-” Derek’s hand gripped him just a little tighter, jerked him just a little harder. Stiles broke off into a wanton whimper that he would have been embarrassed about if he hadn’t felt Derek growl into his ear and shift his hips to press his erection into Stiles’s back. 

Derek rubbed against the boy, hard and slow, biting out, “ _Not. Tonight._ ”

With that, and the tight, now fast grasp of Derek’s hand, pumping him to orgasm, Stiles came, covering Derek’s fingers. Derek grinded his clothed cock Stiles’s ass, holding the boy tightly against him, rubbing himself to completion, and coming in the confines of his jeans.

They caught their breath.

“So, is this, like, a thing we do now? Can this be a thing?” Stiles asked, trying to stop panting so hard.

“Of course it can. I still have to fuck you.” Derek said softly in his ear, as if he were talking about the weather or something drastically different than doing the boy over.

Stiles sighed, his eyes drifting shut. “So considerate. Always putting the needs of others first.”

Derek shifted their bodies so they were lying down. He was still draped over the boy, who was very rapidly descending into sleep.“I live to please.”

“Good. ‘Cause I need a lot of pleasing.” Which was the last thing he said before passing out. Derek must have taken it to heart, because, the next morning, Stiles woke up warm, wrapped in a blanket, with a note on the pillow next to him with one word scribbled onto it. 

_Tonight?_

**Author's Note:**

> Life is tough and full of stuff and so I write porn to make it feel less like the world is collapsing in on me. 
> 
> Hopefully soon I won't be as stressed and I'll post less of this silly stuff. But, I hope you guys like it okay.


End file.
